Great Italian and French Composers eBook

Rossini would preside at the first three representations,
and, after receiving a grand civic banquet, set out
for the next place, his portmanteau fuller of music-paper
than of other effects, and perhaps a dozen sequins
in his pocket. His love of jesting during these
gay Bohemian wanderings made him perpetrate innumerable
practical jokes, not sparing himself when he had no
more available food for mirth. On one occasion,
in traveling from Ancona to Reggio, he passed himself
off for a musical professor, a mortal enemy of Rossini,
and sang the words of his own operas to the most execrable
music, in a cracked voice, to show his superiority
to that donkey, Rossini. An unknown admirer of
his was in such a rage that he was on the point of
chastising him for slandering the great musician,
about whom Italy raved.

Our composer’s earlier style was quite simple
and unadorned, a fact difficult for the present generation,
only acquainted with the florid beauties of his later
works, to appreciate. Rossini only followed the
traditions of Italian music in giving singers full
opportunity to embroider the naked score at their
own pleasure. He was led to change this practice
by the following incident. The tenor-singer Velluti
was then the favorite of the Italian theatres, and
indulged in the most unwarrantable tricks with his
composers. During the first performance of “L’Aureliano,”
at Naples, the singer loaded the music with such ornaments
that Rossini could not recognize the offspring of his
own brains. A fierce quarrel ensued between the
two, and the composer determined thereafter to write
music of such a character that the most stupid singer
could not suppose any adornment needed. From that
time the Rossini music was marked by its florid and
brilliant embroidery. Of the same Velluti, spoken
of above, an incident is told, illustrating the musical
craze of the country and the period. A Milanese
gentleman, whose father was very ill, met his friend
in the street—­“Where are you going?”
“To the Scala to be sure.” “How!
your father lies at the point of death.”
“Yes! yes! I know, but Velluti sings to-night.”

II.

An important step in Rossini’s early career
was his connection with the widely known impresario
of the San Carlo, Naples, Barbaja. He was under
contract to produce two new operas annually, to rearrange
all old scores, and to conduct at all of the theatres
ruled by this manager. He was to receive two
hundred ducats a month, and a share in the profits
of the bank of the San Carlo gambling-saloon.
His first opera composed here was “Elisabetta,
Regina d’Inghilterra,” which was received
with a genuine Neapolitan furore. Rossini
was feted and caressed by the ardent dilettanti
of this city to his heart’s content, and was
such an idol of the “fickle fair” that
his career on more than one occasion narrowly escaped
an untimely close, from the prejudice of jealous spouses.
The composer was very vain of his handsome person,
and boasted of his escapades d’amour.
Many, too, will recall his mot, spoken to a
beauty standing between himself and the Duke of Wellington:
“Madame, how happy should you be to find yourself
placed between the two greatest men in Europe!”